


everything but me

by NaomiLeyers



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-03-24 09:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13808448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiLeyers/pseuds/NaomiLeyers
Summary: where Saxa does a bit of matchmaking, Jon Snow actually knows something and they are all good at their jobs, good thing that





	1. Saxa

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing but the plot, characters belong to Steven deKnight and George R.R. Martin, title is from Daughtry and I borrowed BAU from Criminal Minds

“You´d better have a hell of a good reason to call me at 5 AM,” she tells Crixus coldly after she answers the phone.

“Yeah well, I was feeling generous, given that I am awake and dealing for almost two hours now.”

“What happened?” she asks while slowly getting up from bed and reaching for the switch. 

“Well. There is this girl who appeared somewhere near King´s Landing claiming to having been drugged and kidnapped sometime last night. I mean, she has scratches and bruises everywhere and she was scared to death when she knocked on the door of that lovely family living there-“

“Crixus, women are being kidnapped all the time. Why did they call us? Also why didn’t they call me?”

She can hear him sigh.

“The police asked her to describe the process of the attack. She said he drugged her and she woke up in a cottage somewhere in the forest in the middle of nowhere. She had chains and she wasn’t alone.”

“Fine, team is not that common but it´s still not a case for-“

“If you let me finish it, I´ll tell you that the guy was malnourished, injured, clearly abused and he helped her escape. As in, the kidnapper told him to ´prepare her´ whatever the fuck it was supposed to mean and left the room and he grabbed the keys, unlocked the chains and told her to run. And he refused to go with her, because ´he will be angry when he finds out she escaped but he won´t see her as someone worth risking getting caught, but he´ll never let him go´. After that she started crying and shaking but somehow the cops managed to get some very interesting information out of her. As in, she managed to describe the way back and that´s when they called me. Me because you are supposed to stay home for the next fortnight but I thought you might want to be a part of this.”

Saxa is already putting on leather jacket and grabbing her car keys. 

“Text me the address.”

 

She meets Crixus and a police team in a lovely village, name of which she doesn’t remember. Crixus is pale and looks tired and she kind of wants to hug him except that neither of them is this touchy-feely and so she doesn’t. 

“The cottage is some 20 minutes southern from here and in case that guy is there I suggest we go on foot from now.”

She agrees immediately. 

20 minutes later they stand in front of a not that scary looking house and she lets Crixus carefully open the front door and they enter. 

Some 3 rooms of “clear” later she really wishes she listened to her mother and went studying literature instead of criminology.

Thing is, Saxa doesn’t particularly mind blood or gore. She likes her gun and she has no problem using it and she isn’t above breaking rules and bones when she needs to get information.

Still, this isn’t her normal morning.

The room looks like something that was cut out of a really bad BDSM movie set in the Middle Ages. There is a cross in the centre of the place and blood on the floor and there is a man bound to the cross and she knows immediately that Crixus was right and there is no team. 

She moves closer to him and then she backs of after he stars shaking. 

“It´s okay,” she tells him softly, “I´m from BAU. We´re getting you out.” 

He doesn’t seem to really hear her, not that she can blame him.

“Fuck,” Crixus says behind her and she would laugh if she didn’t have to fight nausea. 

“Can you. Fuck. Can you please call the ambulance? Tell them to come here as soon as possible and tell them they need to go to Memorial.”

He nods and does what she asks him to do and she grabs her own phone and calls Spartacus. Her fingers are trembling. 

“Will you handle it here?” Crixus asks her then and she nods and leaves the room.

Spartacus answers it after sixth ring. 

“Do you know that I have a day off? If I remember it right, so do you, what do you want?”

“I need you to come to work,” she tells him.

“Any particular reason?”

“I have a case and I am in a dire need of the best surgeon in this country.”

At the word case he stops complaining.

“What is it?”

She moves closer to the guy. 

“Good question. Fuck. I have a victim of severe abuse here and I think I’ll need your help. Agron is on his way to get you. Also, don’t you dare hang up on me now.”

“I wouldn’t. I´ll text my boss I´m coming and then you can tell me exactly what is happening to the victim. And I need you to be calm.”

She only doesn’t tell him to go fuck himself because she needs him. 

“Fine. Ugh. He´s feverish and probably getting to shock. Spartacus, it´s bad. Broken ribs causing pneumonia. Half of his skin has been skinned at some point; he´s got broken fingers, infected whip marks. Fuck. I really don’t think he´ll last long, Spartacus, I need your help.”

She almost wants to cry when two guys from Memorial Hospital arrive and she helps them unchain the man from the cross and she ignores his protests. 

When his fingers close around her wrist with the strength of a new-born baby, she hesitates for a moment but then one of the paramedics nods at her and she gets into the car with them, texting Crixus that she will coordinate the situation from the hospital.

Her phone beeps seconds later. It says agreed.

 

Spartacus meets her in front of his operating theater. He looks just as pale as she and she can´t help thinking of how it ended the last time the two of them met here. She remembers holding Mira´s hand while Spartacus was desperately trying to make her heart work again until her ribs broke and Crixus dragged him away.

He takes one look at the guy and he tells the nurse standing nearby to get everything ready and bring the guy in and then he turns to her.

“I´ll get you his clothes and if he doesn’t start internally bleeding, I´ll tell someone to take fingerprints.”

She nods and doesn’t thank him and he quickly walks to the room. Saxa leans against the door and let herself breathe for a second, and then she sighs and picks up her phone.

“The house is clear,” Crixus tells her instead of hello, “Agron is coming over, we´ll make the cops go away and in case that son of a bitch shows here, we´re taking him.”

“Very well. I´ll inform Lucretia about the case and I´ll wait here.”

“Yeah do that. And Saxa… Are you sure you are alright? You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, if you don’t feel like you can handle this-“

“Crixus, I appreciate the concern, but what happened with Mira… I´m over it, alright? Now if you would excuse me, I need to call Luce and then I need to find someone to help because I cannot do this on my own.”

Then she hangs up before he can start explaining to her how exactly she isn’t alright. 

Then she goes upstairs and flirts with Illythia until she gives up and lets her make a makeshift office in the yet to be opened part of the hospital. Then she returns to Spartacus´ floor and she sits down on a chair and thinks about how exactly she will inform Lucretia Batiatus, when she notices Laeta Ennius arguing with the staff and-

And what she wants to do is highly inappropriate but her team used to have six members and now there are three of them and she really needs to deal with the situation and Laeta is a journalist, which doesn’t look like a good idea but she is professional enough for Saxa to be willing to risk it. 

She puts her phone away (after all, Lucretia can shout at her also later) and then she goes to get Laeta before the guard can arrest her.


	2. Laeta

When Saxa comes to find her, Laeta has almost stopped hoping that anything meaningful could happen to her today. 

“Do I know you?” she asks dryly, because she really doesn’t like federal agents.

The blonde woman smiles at her and it reminds Laeta of a wolf looking at its prey.

“I arrested you two years ago after you tried to write that very ugly article about my former boss and corruption.”

Laeta crosses her arms on her chest.

“Oh. Right. Your boss was dating a fairly powerful politician connected to Russian government.”

Saxa leans closer, her eyes cold.

“My boss was working undercover, he was investigating that connection and that article of yours almost got him killed. I’m not here to reminiscent, Ms. Enias. I need your help.”

Laeta sighs.

“It is not Ms. Enias anymore. Your boss might have been faking, but my husband unfortunately got involved in a real smuggling of goods to this country. We are divorced, not that I know why I am telling you that. What do you want, Agent?”

Saxa looks tired, which is in a strong contrast with how strong she looked mere moments ago.

“I need your help,” she repeats.

“Mine? Why?”

“Because, Laeta, my boss was feeling so guilty after that case that he decided to re-join the army and he is currently in Afghanistan, one of my agents was killed during a case six months ago and another one is currently locked at the psychiatry due to emotional breakdown which means there used to be six people in this team but right now there are three and I need more than three people.”

“Is that even legal?” asks Laeta quietly and Saxa smirks at that.

“It is not illegal,” she answers.

“Why would I help you?” 

“Because if you do, it’ll get you exclusivity about the worst case in this year.” She seems to think about it. "In this decade. Maybe."

Laeta thinks of it for exactly two seconds. Then she offers Saxa her hand.

“Where do we start, then?”

*

Saxa leans back against one of the operating tables in a to-be-opened operating theater.

“Spartacus sent one of the nurses to give me fingerprints of our victim, not that I have means to do anything with them. I planned to stay here at least till Spartacus finishes the surgery but it looks like I will have go and give it to our technicians.”

Laeta does her best to look innocent and fails miserably. Saxa crosses her arms at her chest.

“What?”

Laeta refuses to look at her, when she answers.

“I maybe know how to hack the database. If I scan the fingerprints I can try to get you his name without getting anyone else involved.”

The smile Saxa gives her is almost, almost feral.

“Then why are you still talking to me?” she asks and Laeta decides that is enough of a permission and she opens up her laptop.

Saxa’s phone rings.

“Luce,” she says, when she answers it. (She answers it after a string of curses that make Laeta blush but that’s not that important, is it?)

“You texted me,” Lucretia sounds calm but like she is fighting anger too, “I am on a well-deserved vacation with my beloved husband and you text me telling me you want me to prosecute possibly weirdest case since the one with Tullius four years ago?”

“If you don’t want it I can find someone else,” Saxa answers and her voice is bordering on openly unfriendly, “but you are the best and you need a burst in your career and this could be it.”

“I will do it,” Lucretia says, “send me everything you’ve got. I’ll catch the first plane back to King’s Landing and-“

“You are supposed to be on vacation three more days,” Saxa reminds her, “and I don’t have a killer, yet. You can stay there for now. I’ll let you know if we find out anything new.”

“You’d better,” Lucretia says and then she hangs up and Saxa lets out another string of curses. 

Before Laeta can ask her if she is alright, her laptop beeps with notification and Saxa leans closer and-

“Well, fuck,” she says.

The name reads Theon Greyjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well... it seems that we are moving on, right?


End file.
